To Know You Is To Hate You
by AsianOne
Summary: For you, I'd do anything Just to make you happy, hear you tell me that your proud of me. For them. I'd kill anything, cut the throats of babies. For them, break their hearts. Waiting for you to say... I love you too. GaaraSakura
1. Chapter 1

To Know You IsTo Hate You So Loving You Must Be Like Suicide

**authors note: yeah, I wrote this by myself, Lauren not Christian (who writes this shit with me) ummm...yeah GaaraXSakura story I think it's pretty good...no lemon or any shit like that...I don't do lemons...so tell me what ya think gaara has like parents in this one and he's not that quiet...so I guess you really couldn't call himm gaara really. Oh well, enjoy!**

A guy lounged in his seat, near the back of the room smiled sarcastically, and lazily raised his hand. "I choose Amanda," he said, propping his feet up on his desk.

"You... don't get to choose," the teacher said, pointing his pen slowly at the boy.

Another girl, this time, centered in the room, squealed, parting her pink-frosted lips to show her teeth clenched tightly as she raised her hand perpendicular to her body, and waved it fiercely. "Ooh! Ooh! I choose Brad!"

"_No_," another girl said, "I choose Brad as _my_ partner."

The teacher looked down at his class list, smiling to himself, while listening to the silence, before he finally looked up at both of the girls. "Ok, that's three requests not getting counted. Anymore?"

No one interrupted the silence this time. "Good, good. Now I can begin to assign." The teacher looked down at his class list, and decided to partner enemies with enemies. He knew very well that the theory of doing so 'would achieve a new look at the disliked person' was very much untrue, and in most cases resulted in bad grades, or one or both the students partnered deciding not to participate. Some people just won't work with others. It's life. So, he had avoided it all year, letting the students chose. And even so, he did get more students participating, but he also hadn't gotten rid of the non-participants, or the bad grades. The school was going under, and if grades didn't start to go up, he and many other teachers could be let go. But he didn't mind- for some reason, he felt like he should go through with his plan. That something would in fact be changed.

As he continued on, and went down the list, he received groans, and "No way!"'s coming from many corners of the room. But he didn't pause, or argue. He just continued, never raising his voice. He knew that his students would understand his intentions, and not continue to scream at him. His students always knew when he was final on a subject- even if they were all failures, and delinquents, who wouldn't make it into college, or ever get a good job. And that's what he loved about them. They always made him happy in some form or way. He respected them, and they respected him.

Most of the time.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Mr. Welsh! I'm not working with that fag!" a girl hidden in her hoodie called from the back, "I won't do it! I'm not stepping a foot in his house, and he's certainly not stepping a foot in _mine_!"

"Sakura... Please," he shook his head.

"And you think _you're_ upset," another boy in the back said, smiling slightly.

"Don't you dare talk to me!" she yelled back at him, "And how dare you say that! You're no prize either!"

Mr. Welsh sat down in his old, broken down wooden chair, and rubbing his forehead slowly as the two continued to fight. "Sakura... Gaara! ENOUGH!" he shouted, from underneath his sweaty hand.

"Oh, but we've just started," Gaara answered calmly, compared to Sakura's raging disagreement.

"No more- why is that you two always are fighting about something? 'Oh You're a fag!' or, or, 'Wash your hair, you filthy douche bag!' and, 'Sakura you're a lesbian!'," Mr. Welsh mocked, standing once more from his chair. "I've seriously had enough- you two are the most foul students I know! And I've been teaching for twenty some I can't remember years! I've had it!"

You would normally see a bunch of students sitting in their desk quietly; shocked at the words Mr. Welsh used being a teacher. But no, no. Not with these students. This wasn't the first time Mr. Welsh had mocked what students would say to each other. He had gone on vents about it many times.

And throughout the year, just about every single vent was about Sakura, and Gaara.

But that final year of high school wasn't their only year of disliking each other. They were next door neighbors, and had hated each other ever since they had met at age eight, when Sakura had moved to Suna from Konoha.

Gaara had been running out of the house, his mother yelling at him to come back in because it was too dangerous, and Sakura was getting out of her mother's car, coming home from a visit to her grandma. Sakura saw him, and like any other boy she would see, she walked straight up to him, and made a comment about how he was gross, and had cooties, and never wanted to see his face again.

That was the first time they had met.

Never having before hand.

And every year after that, as they grew into teenagers, and coincidently would go out at the same time to get the mail or daily newspaper, they would toss insults at one another, and occasionally, Gaara would spit at Sakura if he got close enough. She would return the favor, if not get to it before he did.

They seriously hated each other.

Hated each other enough, if their were to be a neighbor war, much like the American Civil War, and they were soldiers, they would aim good and hard at one another, and take one shot. And only shot. The job would be done, and the other would live another day.

But they could not kill the other, nor have a war. The insults were the daily battle at school and out. And it was the same every day. Nothing changed.

Until the day Mr. Welsh assigned partners for a project for the first time.

"Sakura- I don't care how much you hate him, you're not messing up your grades because you think low of him. Get over to his house, and start that project! Now!" Sakura's mother stood in front of her next to the front door of the house, insisting she go to Gaara's house. _'Work things out'. Pfft, yeah right_, Sakura thought, _She's really expecting me to step foot in that- that-_

"Sakura! I mean it! Now!" Her mother firmly pointed her arm at the door, and opened it. "And don't come back until you've accomplished something!"

"No! I'm not going over to his house! You're fucking nuts!" Sakura shouted, but her mother only raged again.

"If you don't get over there I'm calling _his_ mother- and believe me young lady, she will escort _him_ over here _herself_! Now GO!"

Sakura groaned loudly, and violently ripped her hoodie down from the wall, and zipped it up as she stepped out onto the cement steps, her feet crunching loudly over the autumn leaves while she stormed down the sidewalk toward his house.

She thought about going around his house and into the alley- taking off for a while. But she knew her mom would be watching her, and possibly even call if she had a suspicious feeling. Plus, she'd be stupid to go into the alley and stay until dark- she could end up dead that way.

Sakura reached his front door, and banged her fist against it until it was opened, revealing a boy, a make-up wearing one on the other side.

"Can I help you," he said, rather than asked, as if it was routine.

"Yeah, where's your dick face of a brother, Kankuro?"

Kankuro sniffed once, and stepped out of the way. "Oh- I see what you're here for. He's upstairs. All yours. Oh, but try not to make too much noise, because mom and dad could be home at any time, and Gaara wouldn't like it if he got caught. _Again_."

Sakura shook her head, smiling to herself. "Does he help you memorize that too, or just give you random things to say?"

"Random things- But that one seemed to be working lately so I thought, what the hell, it should work on the dyke next door too."

Sakura turned her head from Kankuro, and saw Gaara coming down the staircase, a sketchbook his hand. "Like _you'd_ be getting _anything_-"

"Oh, no," Gaara laughed, breaking her sentence. "I'm sorry- have I been taking all the girls _you're_ interested in? I'm sorry-"

"-other than _dick_." Sakura finished. "I even doubt you get that."

Gaara had nothing to say to her. He wasn't a fag, but he couldn't argue it with her. What could he say? gay men love psychos with red hair who are into mass murder.

"Look," Sakura said. "I'm only here because my mother is forcing me- I don't want to be your friend, and I don't want to study with you. I just want to finish the project, and get out."

"Likewise."

Kankuro shut the front door. "Well, I'll leave you too alone..." he slinked off into the kitchen smiling.

"Kankuro I swear!" Gaara shouted.

"I know you do!" Kankuro called back, clearly opened the refrigerator.

"I'm serious!"

"Project!" Sakura interrupted.

Gaara slowly turned from facing the kitchen doorway. "Right. So here's the deal- My parents will be back shortly with company. So we'll have to use my room-"

Sakura groaned, sighing deeply.

"-So I want you to know: Don't touch anything, including myself, and don't tell my parents about the alcohol. Got it?"

Sakura shrugged, and advanced towards the stairs. "Yeah sure- so show me your shithole."

"Hmmm," Gaara smiled at her even if she didn't notice, and continued up the stairs as she followed. "Also... Also," he added, "You look up the information, and I'll write it down."

Sakura stopped, as they had reached the top, and shook her head. "Oh no- you're not tricking me into doing all the work. No way."

"You're misunderstanding- You'll look it up- I'll write it down, _including_ the poster." he said.

"Uh! No... I'm doing some of the poster; I'm not getting a sucky grade because of you."

Gaara paused when he reached his bedroom door before opening it. He sighed. "Fine- do whatever you want. I don't care."

Sakura nodded in agreement. "Good."

With that, Gaara opened his bedroom door slowly, as if to preparing Sakura for a grand ballroom on the other side. "Don't forget my rules," he reminded her as she walked in, stepping over everything that was on the floor, that ranged from sheets of paper, clothing, and in a few spots, paint brushes and pencils.

Her usual response to first entering someone's room would be to plop down on their bed. But she definitely was not going to 'plop' down on Gaara's bed. Never would she. The thought made her shudder with disgust.

She couldn't imagine her skin making contact with the sheets of Gaara's unmade bed, or even touching the pillow, where his, as she claimed, 'greasy head' would lay every night.

And it was true. Gaara had once gone without a shower for a week. He reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, so he was forced to shower before his parents discovered what he was up to, just by his smell. But that was the only time Gaara had skipped a shower in such time. From the on he had taken a shower every day- and his hair _was not_ dirty in the least.

And then Sakura noticed that she had _only_ noticed Gaara's bed. And that was because his bed was the bottom portion of a _bunk_ bed. How fascinating.

"I see you share your room, eh?" Sakura observed, rather than asked.

"Yes I do- I've been trying to convince my parents to let me have the basement... But you know, I'm so attractive, my parents don't trust me having the basement to myself, when I have access to the window."

"Oh, when will you give up?" Sakura said irritably.

"Well," Gaara began. "I don't need the whore's at school to get a blowjob-"

"-No, you just get the one's off the street instead-"

"-Aren't we here to do a project?" Gaara cut in, throwing some things aside. "Because I mean, if you're really _that_ jealous-"

"Jealous! Jealous!" Sakura was outraged. "Who could ever be jealous of you?"

There was a sudden knock on the open doorframe, and a throat was cleared. "Mom's home- and like I said: _Don't make so much noise_!" Kankuro whispered, and ran away as soon as Gaara glared at him with piercing eyes. As much as Kankuro loved torturing his little brother Gaara scared the shit out of him.

An hour passed- _surprisingly_, and Gaara had cleared an area on his floor so they could both sit.

Sakura had Gaara's history book opened across her crossed legs, and flipped through pages, looking for the answer to every question Gaara asked her. And the funny thing was, that if she didn't feel like looking for it, she'd just give him a random answer- and then she'd look up from the book, to see Gaara focused on the poster, smiling.

"No, no- that's not the answer. Napoleon died..." Gaara would go on to correct her without ever looking at the book.

Part of Sakura wanted to be mad, thinking, _Gaara could do this himself- he doesn't even need me_, but the other part couldn't help but laugh. On the inside, of course- she didn't want to falsely send him a hint that she _didn't_ hate him. Because she did- she couldn't have herself thinking about him any other way.

After Gaara finished writing about a paragraph in one corner of the poster, leaving space for a picture, he sighed and handed her the poster. "So, I suppose you want to draw Napoleon Bonaparte..." he said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

Sakura never thought about Gaara being good at anything- even if it was some silly doodles he had plastered on his walls. But she had to admit- she was a little taken back. She had always loved to draw, and thought she was rather good. Until she saw Gaara's sketches. The boy next door's drawings were _better_. Sakura mentally scolded herself for thinking that, but it was the truth. He was far better than her.

"No," Sakura said, forcing out every syllable, "You do it."

Gaara looked a little shocked a first, deciding whether if she thought he was a better drawer, or if she just didn't want to do the work. But either way, he didn't care. He just wanted to draw something for _a grade_ for once. And then,

"You're better than me- I would just mess it up." Sakura said quietly, looking down at the Napoleon who was posed in the history book. That had to have been the nicest thing she ever said to him. And she regretted it- she still hated his guts.

Gaara slowly pulled the poster back onto his lap, and sat another book underneath it the area where he would draw the picture. "Uh- ok..."

He began to draw, and Sakura continue to yell in her insides, shaking her head, licking her teeth.

Gaara looked up at her, pulling hair out of his face, and behind his ear. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"I wasn't looking at you," Sakura retorted.

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't."

"You _were_."

"Oooh!" Sakura couldn't stand to be in his presence anymore. It was already killing her. "Do you know how much I hate you!" she yelled, reminding herself his parents were downstairs. "I don't like you!"

"And I don't like you!"

"Then great, you don't need me here, and I can just leave!" Sakura pushed Gaara's history book off her, and onto the floor as she pushed herself up, heading for the door.

Gaara didn't budge. "No you won't," he said. "Your mother will just drag you back."

Sakura paused, her back to Gaara, as she was only feet away from his door that was just slightly cracked open. He was right. Her mother would bring her back. But she couldn't stand to be in the same room with him- it was driving her crazy, being alone in the same room with him. Every time he looked at her...

_What_ was wrong with her?

Sakura turned slowly, intending to say something back to Gaara, to hide the fact that he was right. But as she turned, he was standing right there behind her. She couldn't let her guard down. _Show no emotion_. That's what her father always told her. If Gaara couldn't see what she was thinking, she would be home free. But at what cost?

And this time it was hard- he was so close to her, just waiting for her insult to be shot at him. He raised his "eyebrows"(or whatever those things are where his eyebrows would be)as if to say, 'Well?'.

Sakura moved closer to his face- she had confidence. She stopped, leaving about less than an inch between the two. Gaara never once stepped back.

"Just stay out of my face, alright?" Of course she didn't mean that in a literal way- because that was the best she had. She couldn't admit that Gaara hadn't done anything wrong. She couldn't admit he had stolen everything from her. And she didn't like what he was giving her in return. And it was stupid- because she couldn't have possibly been giving him the same.

Sakura moved away from him; he hadn't said anything in return. "Let's just get this done." she said, picking up Gaara's book from the floor. "I don't want to be here all night."

Gaara sat down as Sakura did, and picked up the poster, along with his pencil. "We won't finish it tonight."

"Well I'm not coming back here."

Gaara sighed quietly, pressing his pencil onto the poster board. He really hated her. He hated Sakura so much.

And as he made delicate strokes, creating Napoleon's left eye, he thought of Sakura's eyes. They were a shocking green. He had looked at them every day he saw her, even if it was from a distance. Gaara finished both of Napoleon's eyes, and skipped to his hair. Napoleon's hair wasn't anything like Sakura's. Gaara had longed to touch her petal locks, and sometimes, place the strands that constantly hung in her face behind her ear. Just to see if it was a soft as it looked.

Sakura filled Gaara's mind as his pencil moved furiously across the board- he moved right to the lips. As his pencil curved the outlines, he imagined he was touching Sakura's lips. Just barely placing his finger on them, tracing the contours of her beautiful, perfect mouth.

Gaara hated her because he couldn't have her.

"Are you almost finished?" Sakura asked, leaning slightly in Gaara's direction, looking down at his drawing. When she saw what was there, she stopped. There was a long silence; Gaara never replied.

"Are you _drawing me_?" she asked, appalled.

Gaara brushed lock of fiery red hair out of his face, and looked up at her. "What?" He looked down at his drawing, and saw that the face and hair did not belong to Napoleon Bonaparte. "Oh- uh, no- I, uh-"

"What are you, some kind of stalker!" Sakura shrieked, sending Gaara's head back.

"No, I was just-"

"I can't believe you- what the hell do you think you're doing!"

Sakura continued on to yell at him. Gaara had had enough.

"No!" he said, and pushed himself at her, gripping her arms just above her elbows, slamming her up against the wall that was just inches behind her. "I'm not a fucking stalker, alright?"

Sakura's arms were tightly and painfully pinned against the back of the wall, while she instantly arched her back towards her attacker, trying to push him off of her.

"And I'm not a fag! I'm not a douche bag, and all these other names you call me every fucking day, and my hair, IS NOT, GREASY!"

Gaara's chest rose and fell rapidly, as his breaths reached Sakura's face, their hearts both pounding with speed of fear, and anger.

Sakura at that moment would have unlinked her crossed legs, and kneed Gaara, causing him pain, shoving him off of her, saying, 'Get the fuck off of me!'. But she didn't, and she couldn't. Sakura couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't moved, or why he just held her down, staring at her. She couldn't remove her eyes from his- he had got her again. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Gaara also knew he'd have to do it now, or just forget about her. Forget about all the lust that had built up over the years, forgetting all the hate.

He looked down at her lips, and when his eyes returned to hers, she had widened them- only wishing Gaara would loosing his grip on her, so she could reach out; just touch him...

But he didn't loosen his grip, holding her steady. And just before she could say his name, begging him to do something, he leant forward, and quickly, but carefully placed his lips on hers. Sakura's right leg slipped away from her other, and slowly extended outward, just between both Gaara's legs. She let his mouth linger on hers, and after a few seconds, pushed him away. She couldn't let him. No.

"This is not happening," she said, sucking in her much needed breath. She had stopped breathing.

Gaara looked at her in shock, also filling his lungs with air. Sakura didn't move from where Gaara had pinned her, and she was nothing but prey to him. It was too easy. He continued to move toward her again, slowly.

"This, is not..." Sakura paused again, still breathing heavily, "Happen..ing,"

Gaara kissed her again, resting his hand on her waist when she didn't refuse, his stomach fluttering with enjoyment- even if it was both their first, and they weren't sure what to do.

Sakura took the opportunity of having free arms to nervously reach up his waist, arms, neck, and finally his face. She wanted to feel him against her, but was too wrecked to do anything more. She was afraid.

Gaara pulled away, looking down at the ground, his mouth open, gasping for breaths. "I can't believe I just did that."

**you likey? tell me if I should continue...I'm thinking of just stopping here...okay so review...bye..**


	2. Chapter 2

EeeeEEWW!" Sakura screamed out, forcefully shoving Gaara's weight off of her. "UHG! Get _off_ of me!" She sat up immediately, wiping her mouth roughly with the back of her hand.

Gaara had fallen backwards from Sakura's forceful push, and steadied himself with the palms of his hands down flat on the floor. He stared at her, amused, watching her desperately trying to remove his 'germs' from her mouth, and face. He bit his lip, smiling.

"What are you laughing at?" Sakura snarled, taking only a moment to look at him before returning her hands to her face.

Gaara only laughed more, remaining at a distance from her, just watching her. Watching her make a fool of herself. He noticed how she was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she propped herself up against the wall he had pinned her against. Her hair was a complete mess; on his account of course, gripping onto fiercely the second he got the chance. And yet, Sakura couldn't say anything. Nothing at all.

"What's going on?" asked a muffled voice through Gaara's bedroom door, "I heard a scream!"

Gaara's foster mother appeared on the other side of the door, a few short seconds later, he hand ready at her chest for the assumed catastrophe taking place in his room. She looked from Sakura, noticing her untidy-look, wiping her mouth rapidly, and then glanced down at her s on, leaning back on the floor, laughing quietly at the girl in front of him. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

"Well, what happened?" she asked again, waving her arm about.

Sakura looked up immediately at Gaara, debating whether to say, 'Your filthy little son just sucked my face!', or something else less dramatic. And Gaara could see it, but a smile still remained curved on his mouth.

"Spider!" Sakura blurted out, bringing the blonde woman's attention to her again. "It- there was a spider..." she said.

Garra's mother put one hand on her hip, and titled her head. "Is that so?" she asked.

Sakura got an evil idea at that point, not taking her eyes off of Gaara, grinning at him. "Yeah- a big one. A big, fat, ugly, hideous, spider. _It was terrible_."

Gaara rolled his eyes, and looked away from Sakura.

"...And, is it dead?" his mother asked.

Sakura nodded, "Oh yeah- _Gaara killed it_."

Gaara's mother smiled, and let her slip down to the door handle again, tugging on it slowly. "Ok, well... then if there's no more problems." She opened the door, "Have fun working on that project," she added, stepping behind the door, closing just as it was before she came in.

It fell silent between Gaara and Sakura at that point. But they both stayed in the same position they had been in when Sakura had violently made it that way. Gaara though, wasn't sure of what to do at all; he didn't understand Sakura's sarcasm _all _the time. He sometimes couldn't even distinguish a difference between her serious remarks, or her sarcastic ones. He looked up at her, only in time enough to see her crawling over the floor, and papers in her way, in his direction.

Sakura brought herself on her knees, and gripped onto Gaara's shirt just above his chest, asking him to get up from the floor. He watched her closely as he managed to get up under her surprisingly, controlling hold on him.

"My turn," she said to him, and unexpectingly pushed Gaara across the room, smashing him into his shuddered, wooden closet doors, causing him a small amount of pain in his back.

Sakura released Gaara's shirt, letting it snap back onto his chest, and placed her hands on his neck, moving her face closer to his. She let her lips first kiss just underneath his chin on his neck, and travel slowly up to his chin over his admiringly smooth skin, getting closer, and closer each time to his lips as he trembled with excitement.

Gaara didn't know what to think about as Sakura gently sucked along his jawline, not leaving one inch of skin untouched where he seemed, or appeared, to like it the most. All he could do, was bite his lip, and stop himself from emitting any sorts of sound his little brother would immediately detect; he knew Kankuro would be not far from his room at all times.

Sakura on the other hand, had many thoughts traveling throught her mind- she had no idea what she was doing. She just did whatever felt good when she did it, and got a good response back from Gaara. All she wanted was him, and she wanted him _now_.

But by the time Sakura had spent almost a full sixty seconds only inches from Gaara's mouth, he had had enough of the teasing, and gripped hold of her as she had him, and pulled her face up from his neck, kissing her heatedly, all the while deciding she had had enough of the control, pushing her backwards. No way would a _girl_ have control over _him_.

Gaara slid his hands down to Sakura's waist, reminding her to keep moving backwards, giving her gently nudges every time she stopped, and gripped onto his hair, tugging at it to remind _him_ that she _wanted_ him.

But Gaara didn't need a reminder.

He knew.

After a few steps, Sakura's foot crunched over top of an object on the floor, and she nearly fell backwards, taking Gaara with her. But luckily, Gaara thought quickly, and wrapped his arms around her waist, to stop her from a fall that would cause more ruckus for Kankuro, or his parents and the guests downstairs to hear, which he just couldn't have right now.

"_Mm, Gaara,_" Sakura begged, tugging on his shirt, knowing fully well the bottom of the bunk was closely behind her, and she wanted nothing more than for Gaara to push her just one more step so she could fall back onto it with him.

But little did she know those were exactly Gaara's intentions; hence why he gradually aimed her in that direction, keeping her waist at hand. And as Gaara pushed her over, landing on top of her, both of them had completely forgotten the bedroom door was not closed, and anyone could walk in if they wished. But neither of them paid any mind.

Gaara simply found himself drowning in all the kisses he began to deliver to Sakura's neck, stopping in certain spots along the way to suck there briefly, leaving a mark, achieving a soft, and quiet moan from the girl beneath him. But doing so gave him urges, and more intense urges for something different every time he went a little farther with his actions. He slowly moved back up Sakura's neck, covering her mouth with his, kissing her slowly, nervously easing his tongue onto her bottom lip, her arms shaking, barely holding him up above her.

Sakura felt his tongue curiously slide over her bottom lip, and felt her stomach turn; over and over. _How will this work... what do I do?_ Sakura was no more nervous than Gaara, and didn't know what else to do, other than to just do it back, and go from there, which led their tongue's into one another's mouths, changing back and forth between the two, caressing the other's at a slow pace.

Gaara's chest suddenly pressed against Sakura's, his arms no longer able to hold him up, and he sighed, shuddered at the sudden close contact, breaking himself away from her, and continuing his attack along her neck, and downwards.

All Sakura could do to keep herself quiet was to roll her head back, close her eye's tightly, and grip into his bed sheets that had long gone astray from the mattress, some flowing over the bed, and onto the floor beneath them. She bit her lip, to the point at where she almost drew blood, and had to let up.

And at that moment, Gaara hit a spot along Sakura's neck that made her squirm; Gaara smiled, and she clenched her teeth as he continued to suck more roughly, and nip at the spot, drawing a red circle beneath the skin. Sakura blindly reached her hands to Gaara's head, slipping her fingers through his hair, demanding he not stop, as she moaned aloud, panting, and begging for more of his touch.

Gaara took that as his cue, and reached his hand slowly up Sakura's ribs, sending a shiver up her spine, sliding his hand underneath her shirt. Just as he had reached his destination, and before Sakura could cry out his name, he heard something off; his door creaked, but just in the slightest.

He lifted his head, and saw his brother had tripped, but remained at his spot on the floor, peeking through the small crack in the doorway.

"Don't you dare," Gaara warned, speaking through another strand of hair falling into his face.

Kankuro giggled menacingly, and shot up from the floor, his feet pounding down the hall.

"Mom!" Kankuro called loudly, "Gaara is doing bad things with that girl in his room!"


	3. Chapter 3

**To Know You Is To Hate You So Loving You Must Be Like Suicide**

_(authors note:this is the last chappie. I know it's short and there are many ways I could continue it but I really want it to end this way it's so dramatic! I'll be starting a new story soon( NO YAOI! SORRY! not a fan of yaoi...I mean, I lovea good guy-boning-each other story as much as the next person but not for me). Well,I hope you had as much as fun as I had writing it...that sounds corny but It's true so enjoy!)_

Sakura sat up from her down position on Gaara's bed, and pushed him up, taking her hand down to his, which was underneath her shirt, pushing it away as well. Both their chests rose and fell as they stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments. Sakura saw the red crawling up Gaara's neck, all the way up to his round cheeks; his mouth was just slightly open, breathing in and out quietly.

She brought her hand to his face, and quickly pulled him to her one last time, crashing her mouth against his, sucking onto his bottom lip briefly, and parted from him again, almost pushing his face away, as if to say she didn't want to admit she liked him at all.

Gaara's eyes bore through Sakura as seconds ticked by, just waiting for his mother to show up in his bedroom again to see what the hell Kankuro was screaming on and on about. He just couldn't help but stare.

Sakura hastily got down from the bed, and brushed the loose hair out of her face, and behind her ear. She reached down on the floor, grabbing what had been done of the poster, rolling it up as fast as she could, even though her fingers could barely work at the rate she rushed herself at; she was shaking terribly. After she got a good grip on their poster, and also grabbed her hoodie from the floor, she continued on to Gaara's door, and turned to him as she opened it.

"I fucking hate you," she said to him as he watched her leave. And as she left, she whispered, "_I hate what you do to me._"

_You scream for ice cream, I scream for ice cream, we all scream for ice cream._

Everyone knows that little saying you were constantly told, and occasionally would join along in as a small child. But as the child grows, and becomes older, they begin to scream for something different. Either that or they're the ones getting screamed at. Sometimes it's for good, and sometimes it's for something bad--- or annoying, or immature, or--- _looks._

And then they learn to ignore the bad screaming, and engulf themselves around the good. Or at least the supporters- you can't always call people who admire you the best souls in the world, because they truth is--- they aren't.

Sakura refused to because the screamer, nor the screamed at. She had chosen something much different, and something much more depressing to focus on- even after the switch, when she left the few people she knew, to embark on a boring journal to meet even less. Or according to Sakura, none at all. But after that, she was done. She refused to go to school again- she thought graduating meant you were done. Why do it all over again for another four years or more? And for what?

But she, to her misfortune, was forced to spend at least two more years of her life in the education department. Wasting away her days in a room where no one would care if she ever came to class. No one would be looking forward to see her, or watch her, and pretend to hate her. And now that that was gone, she didn't have to pretend anymore either. She could show the hate all she wanted, because, no one important would ever notice, or care.

So she landed herself in a fair sized apartment-- alone, and a job working at a local music store- which was the closest she would ever be able to get to anyone who _was_ important. Even so, it sometimes made to her sick to think she had been forgotten- and she knew it wasn't just something she ate, because every time she saw the faces together in print for the whole world to see, she'd push past people in her way,and shove her face down in a toilet to empty herself of all the toxins _he_ had left behind.

But one night she deemed the last chance she'd ever have, she used the last of what she had from her lousy pay check, and exchanged it for a ticket back to her old life, that she now, desperately wanted to have back. She regretted taking it for granted, and pushing it away.

Sakura watched all the movements that were made, and all the actions and words from a short distance. Not too far away where she couldn't see, and not too close up where she would have to crane her neck. She listened to the flirts, the growls, and the preaching. She watched as he would send out demands at anytime he wished, and saw as the on-lookers immediately obeyed, and bowed down to him as if he was their God. _People worshiped him_.

What-a-change.

And then they were the moans elicited from himself, that he seemed to not even take notice of- as if he was completely turned on by everyting that was going on around him. Like he was getting some sort of sexual rush from it all.

Maybe he was.

But why should Sakura care?

She didn't. And it was beginning to make her sick--- that's why she left. Pushing past people, who would yell, or curse at her every now and then for blocking the view.

_What view?_ she though to herself sarcastically, grunting as she finally made it out the back exit doors, past security, before the last song of the night ended. The chair was no cooler than it had been when she was inside, and didn't send her any relief at all from all the sweaty, ungrateful bodies she had just seconds ago stood next to, and shared the same room with. _Breathed_ the same air with.

She felt like a smoker at that point, feeling like it would have been routine for her to light up as soon as she had made it outside. But she didn't smoke-- _and she didn't drink_. You'd think all the depression she had gone through the past few years of her life would have killed her, and she would have drank herself to death. But she chose not to. _Unline someone else she knew..._

That's when she noticed an abnormal amount of screaming coming from behind the door, inside the venue; then doors had opened, many people piling out, some staying behind calling out in unison up to the stage, "One more song" over and over, until they would realize there wouldn't be 'one more song' and they should have left like the rest of people, and then maybe they wouldn't have to complain about not being able to get out, and being stuck at the light for an hour.

Sakura looked up, and saw _them_ emerge from the another set of doors behind the fence that stood in front of her. Shortly after that, a horde of people came rushing past her, pushing, and shoving her in all directions, fighting to be the first up to the fence.

One from behind the fence strode up to it quickly, and decided which sharpie he should take from who first. He quickly made his decision, as people were in high demand.

"Relax, I'll get to all of you," he mused, smiling at all who had come to see, and collect his signature.

Sakura knew who he was. But never had met him. Maybe should would have at some point if she wouldn't have been so stubborn those few (what seemed like) short years ago. But she didn't care much, he wasn't the one who had caused her so much pain. He was just someone to add, because he had helped.

Curiosity began to arouse in her mind. Thinking what any of them would do if she just walked up there, and stared at them, just to see what _he_ would do, if anything at all. If he even noticed, that is.

So she kept her head up, and pushed past all the people that had done so to her earlier, and reached the fence, letting her hands grip onto the chain links. And then she saw him. She was _so close_. Close enough to where she watched him again; all the movements he made, all the expressions that crossed his face. _His smile_...

She bit her lip- holding back a small amount of tears she knew would soon fall if she didn't leave right at that moment. But she couldn't. She couldn't push it away again. Never would she, she vowed, if she ever got the chance again. And she had.

"Um," a throat cleared in front of her, and she recognized the voice. "Are- you... okay?" he asked slowly.

Sakura didn't answer him, and he watched her, placed a long piece of the front of his hawk behind one of his ears. She saw _him_ begin to walk away. _Oh no- no he wouldn't._

"I FUCKING HATE YOU GAARA SABAKU!" Sakura screamed out, as loud as she could gripping painfully onto the metal fence holding her up.

Gaara had his hands in his pockets, casually walking back toward what would be his home for a few months, ignoring all the useless screams and pleas coming from all the female admirers behind him. But something about one of the screamers stopped him. Something different had occurred. _Something was off._ He knew that voice.

He turned around quickly, just incase he wasn't hearing things, or going crazy as he deemed he had been for quite a few months now. It was a very rare occurrence for him to not approach a girl and tell her, "Fuck you" for saying he was hot. He had always told girls who called to him in that manner so, and he wouldn't say it any other way.

And then there were the haters. Instead of telling them to fuck off as well, he simply ignored their comments to him and his band- they didn't mean anything to him, and never would. They were just a bunch of losers like he once was, trying to act like a punk.

But that voice was neither a hater, nor a raper. It was a 2-in-1 package. The only kind he would ever prefer to have.

Gaara picked up the pace as he advanced towards the gate, the screams getting louder as he approached. He stopped in front of her, examining her tear stained face. A security guard was holding tightly at her shirt sleeve- Gaara assumed it was, '_Just incase_' like all the other girls were handled. But this time, he didn't like it.

"Opened the gate," Gaara said to the man in the red shirt, roughly tugging at Sakura. "Let _her_," he said pointing his index finger at Sakura, "in."

The man raised an eyebrow at him, and stared, as though Gaara was 'high', so to speak.

"Do it!" Gaara commanded, the back off his hand slamming against the fence.

The guard shrugged, releasing his grip on Sakura, preparing himself for a stampede that would be about to take place as soon as he turned the lock. He opened the gate enough for her to slip through, and fought with the rest of the crowd to keep them out.

Gaara took another step up to her, and reached his hand up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over where a new tear had fallen. Her skin was so familiar to him. _Yep, it's definitely her,_ he thought.

"Sakura," he said.

"Gaara."

There was a pause, and Gaara let his hand slowly fall from her cheek to her shoulders.

"Come here," he whispered, gently tugging on her shoulder- slowly incase she would resist.

But she didn't. She just gave into herself, and let her feet trip over the cement, and into his arms.

Gaara held her tight, and didn't mind she did as well, pinching the skin underneath his sweat soaked jacket. He knew she would be crying.

And Gaara wasn't sure if was the right thing to do, but there was something aching away at him, just as it did when he was just eight years old, and had carried on from then--- longing to touch her hair. As he did, but slowly, waiting for resistance again, he brought his mouth to Sakura's ear, and softly said, "I hate you too."


	4. Authors note

Authors Note!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love all of you! So this is the end of the fic. As I said before, I know there are many ways I could continue the fic but I have decided to end it here. I'm starting a new story soon. A SasuSaku maybe I'll throw in a little GaaSaku hehehehe. So yeah…crappy day today…My murder studies (some know it as social studies) teacher, Mr.Faggot (surprisingly not his real name) thinks he's all cool he was like "blah,blah,blah,The Asian people didn't do migration because they suck" ooooh a teacher that says 'sucks' gasp so rebel. Puh-lease I was also pissed cuz I'm like soo Asian so I was like I don't think so. So I was like "well white people migrated because they suck"(no offense to any white people just Mr.Faggot pissed me off. So he gives me this long-ass rant about being racist. So I have like a detention from him. I also have detention for like six of my other classes so being how I am stuck in this lame ass middle school they let me schedule my detentions. So I am now serving one detention for all seven classes. I'm so proud of myself. Yeah, By the way in case you were wondering I'm like 12.


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